The Wedding Killer
by Mari Knickerbocker
Summary: It's a dangerous time to be a bridetobe in Manhattan these days, for some reason they're dropping like flies. And why does this case bring a blast from the past for Gideon and his enstranged son? Read on to find out....!
1. There goes the Bride

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds; I'm just fiddling around with it. Therefore, everything you do recognize belongs to the geniuses behind Criminal Minds any thing you don't are my own ideas

The Wedding Killer

Prologue: There goes the Bride

He stroked her cheek one last time in a gentle loving caress, hypnotized by her now fading beauty. This one had been a complete sweetheart, giving him everything he had ever needed. He thanked her for that, repeatedly, her compliance had made their two-week long affair seem like magic. Still in the end, like the three before her, she had disappointed him.

It was a shame really. He had such high hopes for her, but regretfully he had been forced to take steps. He never liked having to do what eventually every woman since his first mistress forced him to do. All had been disappointments; none could measure up to the perfection of his first love. He let lose a regretful and oddly satiated sigh turning away from the now stiffing body, all alone in the middle of the bed.

"Well my dear," he purred at the limp form, "it's always a pleasure to see you." Then smiling into the glazed over eyes he left the opulent hotel sweet, but not before blowing her one last kiss goodbye.

* * *

**Quantico, Virginia:**

BAU Headquarters

Jason Gideon was sitting in his office just above the bullpen of the BAU team, trying to listen intently to the increasingly panicked voice on the other end of the phone line.

"Stephan," Gideon said as evenly as he could, "I need you to calm down. I can't understand anything you're saying right now." At that moment, while Gideon tried to calm down his estranged son, Aaron Hotchner appeared in the open doorway looking for the senior BAU agent. Gideon looked up at his fellow agent a speculative gleam in his eyes.

"We have a briefing Gideon," Hotchner said by way of explanation, "we'll start when you're ready." Hotchner then turned to leave, before Hotch had taken two steps away from Gideon's office the older man was already attempting to hang up the phone.

"Stephan, I'm sorry but I have to go." Gideon told his distraught son, leaning forward and resting an elbow on his desk. He listened for a moment to the sudden string of words that poured into his ear over the receiver.

"Yes, of course Stephan," he said to soothe the young man, "I don't know what case this briefing is about," another pause as the person on the other line issued demands. "Yes if it's that I'll let you know. Better yet, I will get in touch with you if we end up in the area." That guarantee seemed to pacify the man on the other end for his voice slowly lost its panicked tone. "Goodbye Stephan," Gideon said into the ensuing silence, he barely waited for his son's reply before hanging up the phone and striding out of his office.

He strode into the round table room to find every team member already there and waiting for him. As soon as Gideon walked into the room, Morgan handed him a copy of the case file. JJ waited patiently for Gideon to sit down before starting the briefing.

She turned to the projection screen bringing up the picture of a young woman in her early to mid twenties with long black hair who appeared to have been strangled to death.

"Rachel Adams," JJ announced her voice tense, "found in one of the Plaza hotel's honeymoon suites, pronounced dead at the scene. Her death matches that of Cheryl Monroe found strangled in the honeymoon suite of another one of New York City's finer hotels." JJ brought up a picture of the second victim so both pictures were now side-by-side on the screen.

"Alright, what makes these two deaths the work of a serial killer?" Emily Prentiss asked.

"This unsub is good," was JJ's immediate response, "we probably never would have noticed him for years if he hadn't gotten ahead of himself."

"What do you mean JJ?" Hotch asked looking up from his copy of the file.

"This is the first time that one of his murders happened so close together, in the span of two weeks to be precise." She paused waiting to see if anyone would have any questions sure enough, someone did.

"There have been other murders?" Prentiss asked her voice full of doubt.

"The NYPD looked through their old case files and came up with at least two other unsolved murders with the same MO as these. Both found strangled to death in one of Manhattans ritzier hotels' honeymoon suites. The only difference between Rachel and Cheryl's death is that these other two occurred exactly a year apart."

"How does those two connect to the more recent ones?" Prentiss pushed further, clearly doubting if this was an actually serial case worthy of the BAU's attention.

"This unsub has a specific type," Dr. Reid said answering for JJ. "Each victim has been in the same age range, early to mid twenties. They have all had the similar hair color, similar eye color, similar height, and weight. Suggesting that the unsub is targeting young women that match the appearance of someone close to him, someone he either lost or does not return his romantic feelings. Each victim has had some level of sexual abuse before she was killed, indicating that this is a crime born out of obsession and suppressed passion."

"Thanks Reid," JJ said as he took time for a breath. "In addition to all that each victim has been killed within in the same month, on or around the same day. All four of them were brides to be at the time of death."

"So what made this one special," Morgan asked staring at the photograph of Rachel Adams, "why is the unsub devolving?"

"Well, he left a love not," Gideon said into the ensuing silence, tossing a photograph of the crime scene onto the table.

In the center of the picture, written in a bright red ink and bold lettering was:

_**For the Love of My sweet Matilda…**_


	2. Uhm Professor?

Chapter 1: Uhm…Professor?

"Socrates went on to explain what he thought knowledge to be, could anyone tell me what he said? Anyone, oh come on now, one of you has to have remembered reading this in the _Meno_. It wasn't that boring," the young philosophy professor implored of his class, trying his best not to sound discouraged by their obvious lack of interest. Not that he could blame them, it was early on a Monday morning after all.

"Socrates described knowledge as being the right opinioned tied down by a reason why," a voice from the back of the room piped up.

"Yes, thank you John," the professor exclaimed, excited that someone out there was alive today. "You just saved your fellow classmates from a particularly brutal essay assignment." The entire lecture hall of 50 plus students perked up at that suggestion. He grinned wickedly at them before efficiently dashing their hopes. "Psych, you're still going to have that essay."

The resounding groan was music to his ears. He had not been out of graduate school and teaching for long but he had already begun to enjoy bursting the occasional student's bubble.

At that moment, a cell phone went off playing Darth Vader's Imperial March as the ringer, and to his chagrin, he recognized it as his own phone. Fumbling about in his pocket, he located the phone and the name on the display was enough to both frighten and relieve him. In bold black letters, the display read…Dad. He had been expecting and dreading this call for two days now, and was loathe to ignore it.

"Uhm… Professor Gideon?" A student asked, snapping his attention off the phone and back to his classroom.

"Yes, why don't you guys come up here and grab this essay assignment," he said pointing to a pile of paper on the table in the front of the room, "and we'll call it a day." That being said, he gathered his stuff and opening the cell phone excited the room before any of his students could.

"Hello," Stephan Gideon said into the receiver making a beeline to the elevators hoping to catch one that was going up. It would be easier to carryout this particular conversation in the privacy of his office. "Sorry about that," he told the person on the other end, "I was in the middle of a class."

"No, no, I let them out early. You don't have to call me back," Stephan reassured his father. "Oh," he stopped in the middle of the hall, halfway to the elevator his surprise evident on his face. "Yeah, that would work I can meet you somewhere. No it's not a hassle I can be done for the day." The person on the other end of the line began making excuses for him, and Steve resisted the urge to role his eyes.

"Dad, seriously it's no problem." He said cutting into the other person's excuses, "I know this perfect place too, down in the Village," when his father reluctantly agreed Steve hurriedly told him the directions. "Alright meet you there, let's say around 1:00. Deal?" He barely waited to hear his dad's last comments before hanging up the cell phone.

Steve continued on his way to the elevators and spent the rest of his time at the university in a daze. He wanted this interview, he needed to know what was going on, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to see his father again after all these years. The occasional phone conversation had been enough of an attempt at reconcile that he was comfortable with. Something told him, that his father was just as nervous.

* * *

Jason Gideon walked into the pleasant looking pizzeria with his nerves on fire, it was not a common sensation for Gideon, and he hid it well. No one, even if they knew him well could tell that he was nervous.

Gideon was unsure of the reception he would receive and for moral support, he brought along Hotchner, though he never bothered to tell Hotch why. Hotch was the only member of the team who Stephan would be familiar with. _Hell, he's the only one who knows I have a son,_ Gideon thought bitterly.

It wasn't that hard to spot Stephan sitting by the windows in the slightly crowded pizzeria. He looked like a much younger version of his father, there were only a few differences the major one was he had his mother's eyes. Gideon was not prepared for the shock of regret he got at seeing those light green eyes watching him.

Stephan stood from where he was sitting and reached out to shake his father's hand, it was a rather stiff and formal greeting, but Gideon was comfortable with it for now. Steve smiled at Hotch before shaking his hand; it was an open and friendly smile one that reminded Gideon of the boy's mother. He had inherited her friendly fun-loving attitude not the deathly seriousness of his father.

"Why don't you guys pull up a chair," Stephan said sitting back down. It was then that Gideon noticed the open notebook and novel lying on the table; a pencil was being used as a bookmarker. As he pulled up a nearby chair and sat down Gideon read the title of the book, it was _On Bullshit_. It caught his attention to say the least.

"Are you studying bullshit now?" Gideon asked, using the book as an icebreaker.

"Well, yes and no," Steve answered him glancing down at the book. "I'm reading it as research. I am trying to decide if I want to use this book or another one by Frankfurt in my Ethics class next semester." His answer took Gideon by surprise.

"You're a professor?" Hotch asked sounding genuinely interested. Steve nodded in reply to Hotchner's question.

"I teach over at the Columbia University. I was an adjunct there for a few years and only recently became a fulltime professor."

"What are you a professor of?" Gideon asked and Stephan smiled before answering.

"Philosophy which some people claim is nothing but bullshit," was the humorous reply. They fell silent then, no one knowing how to broach the subject that had brought them together. Finally unable to wait any longer Gideon cleared his throat, getting the attention of everyone.

"Turns out Stephan," he began lamely but Gideon knew no other way to say this. If it had been someone other than his own son, his own **_estranged_** son, it would not be so awkward. "That you may be right, she could be connected to it all."

It was remarkable, the change that that one sentence had on Stephan. Any traces of humor disappeared form his face, his eyes became hard and suddenly his resemblance and relation to Gideon was undeniable.

"I was hoping you'd tell me I was wrong." He said in a serious voice, almost void of all emotion. One look in his guarded eyes told the profiler that Stephan was trying to protect himself. _Protect himself from what…,_ Gideon asked himself.

"No you were right; the victim's semblance to her is undeniable. If I never knew her I would have sworn that it was Matilda."

"Please tell me that looks were the only connection," Stephan asked his voice almost pleading.

"No, the killer left a message," Gideon replied his own voice distant, he had to remind himself that right now he was a profiler not a father. He opened the velum folder he had brought with him and pulled out a crime scene photo, one that showed both the body and the 'love' note. Stephan stared at it for a while before lowering his head to his hands; it was an expression of both grief and disbelief.

"Excuse me," Hotch interrupted, cutting through the tension that had been growing between father and son. "Gideon how do you and your son know this Matilda?" Stephan made no effort to explain so Gideon, watching his son like a hawk, answered his fellow agent's question.

"I wouldn't have put it together if Steve hadn't called me about the most recent murder, just before the case briefing no less. Then when JJ was going through the missing person's files when we arrived at the NYPD, the name Matilda Higgins came up."

"Right," Hotch replied trying to put it all together, "she was the only woman fitting all four vic's descriptions that had gone missing in June exactly a year prior to the first murder. That was three years ago. What's the connection between Matilda Higgins and you?"

"Matilda Higgins was the daughter of our next door neighbor," Stephan supplied finally lifting his head out of his hands, "we grew up together."

"She was also Stephan's girlfriend in college," Gideon continued, "and when I checked who filed the missing person's report it lead back to Stephan."

"I checked that too," Hotch said watching both father and son, "it was a Stephan Nolan that filed the report. Not a Stephan Gideon."

"I used my mother's maiden name when I filed the report," Stephan explained, admitting to have had filed the report in question.

"Why?"

"I didn't want Dad to hear about it. I knew it was a long shot that he ever would but," Stephan shrugged then, as if that explained everything.

"You know that makes you look suspicious Steve," Gideon told his son. The younger man stared at the profiler, his face and eyes registering his complete shock.

"What!? You can't honestly think that I'm doing, doing that!" He burst out angrily gesturing at the crime scene photo.

"It doesn't look good Steve." Gideon explained acting like he would around any potential unsub. "You filed the missing person's report, four weeks later you tell them to stop the investigation, which looks like you're covering your tracks. You grew up with her, dated her, hell you even called me about this case before the BAU ever got it. The coincidences are just piling up too much to be ignored."

"Are you implying that I killed her then ever year afterwards I kill a young woman that looks exactly like her in some kind of sick anniversary ritual?" He asked his voice rising with his anger. Neither Gideon nor Hotchner made a reply; they just sat there watching the increasingly agitated young man.

"Jesus Dad! When she disappeared on me, it was just four weeks before our wedding day, yeah we were engaged," he added in response to the surprise in Gideon's eyes. "The next time I heard from her, was on the day we were suppose to be getting married. She called me to tell me she got cold feet or something, and not to worry or try and find her." He paused to take a breath and try to collect himself. "I had already filed the report so I went down to the station and told them to drop the investigation, out of respect for her wishes not to be found. Then this fucking bullshit started, at first, I shrugged it off as coincidence but now I can't. What the hell was I suppose to do? It's been three years and every June a woman is killed between the time Matilda disappeared and our almost wedding day. Of course, I kept track of it Goddamnit!" He said in answer to the unspoken question in his father's eyes. "I wanted to make sure it wasn't her."

"Hey, watch your mouth young man," Gideon said chastising his son; it was the only thing he could think of after the bombshell Stephan had dropped. Steve stared at him for a moment then shrugged; making a disgruntled face, he turned away from the two FBI agents and stared out the window.

"Steve, I think you need to come with us," Hotch said into the resulting silence. Stephan turned back to look at them, eyes shining with unshed tears and nodded mutely in reply.


	3. Meet the Gideon's

Chapter 2: Meet The Gideon's

"Hey JJ," Emily greeted her fellow female agent as she entered the back conference room at the NYPD that the BAU team had taken over for their purposes. "Where is everyone?"

JJ who was busy laying out all the crime scene photos and evidence that they had on various bulletin boards didn't bother to turn around before answering.

"Morgan and Reid are still at the current crime scene with the police chief," she said tacking up a picture that was a close up on one of the victims face. "Gideon said he would check out the possible lead that missing person's report gave us, he took Hotch with him."

"Oh," was all Prentiss could think to say. She sat down then at a loss as what to do; it was not often that she was told to remain behind at the local precinct. Usually she was out in the field interviewing people. Emily sat there twiddling her thumbs and watching JJ go about her business.

"Emily," JJ finally said stopping what she was doing and turning around. "Do you have anything better to do?" Prentiss shook her head. "Well then why don't you do me a favor and go through some of those case files in front of you."

"Alright," she agreed relieved to have something to do. Even after a couple of months working with the BAU, she was still uncertain about how to act around these people and how she stood with them. It was an old sense of insecurity and low self-esteem that she had never been able to shake, not since puberty.

"So there's defiantly four known victims," she said after perusing the case files for a bit. "Rachel Adams, Cheryl Monroe, Melissa Karter, and Kathryn Olsen," Emily took a picture of the girls and laid them side by side on the table in front of her. "God, they could be quadruplets or sisters at least."

"Yeah, this sicko is pretty particular," Derek Morgan said from somewhere behind Emily. Both women turned around to see Morgan and Reid entering the conference room.

"It should make it easier to identify who his next target is, if we ever find out who the unsub is and how he's finding the grils." JJ said. "You're back early."

"Yeah, Hotch called us," Morgan explained, "he and Gideon are brining in a potential unsub." As if Morgan's words summoned them Hotch and Gideon walked into the bullpen of the NYPD with a young man, who was uncuffed, following them obediently back to the interrogations rooms.

"Is it just me, or does that unsub look a hell of a lot like Gideon?" Prentiss asked her fellow surprised agents. Their eyes locked onto and followed the progression of the three men, everyone speculating about how the shaggy dark haired stranger related to the case. It didn't take long before the four of them went to investigate what was going on.

* * *

Aaron Hotchner, watched through the two-way mirror as Gideon interrogated his own son. He had volunteered to handle this investigation, but Gideon had insisted on it being him in there and not Hotch. He listened as Stephan repeated everything he had told them in the pizzeria, only now the conversation was being taped.

Stephan seemed remarkable controlled now, but that didn't surprise Hotch. He seemed to have gotten over the shock of being accused of murder on the car ride from the pizzeria. That had been the most silent car ride Hotch had ever had to endure, and he had been in his far share of them before.

He was even less surprised when the door to the observation room opened and in walked the rest of the BAU team. He waited patiently for someone to say something; in the meantime, he focused on Stephan's story. Nothing about it had changed from the first telling to now, which could mean one of two things. Either he had been telling the truth all along and was innocent or, he had rehearsed everything.

"Hotch," Morgan finally asked, "what's going on?"

"Gideon is interrogating a possible unsub," Hotch replied not bothering to turn around.

"Is that Stephan Nolan the man who filed the missing person's report?" JJ asked.

"Yes, though Nolan was his mother's maiden name, his legal name is actually—"

Hotch had begun to explain but was interrupted by a sounded outburst form Stephan, caused by something Gideon had said. No one heard what Gideon had said, but Stephan's reply was obvious.

"Jesus Christ Dad! You really believe that I'm capable of killing four innocent women, four women that I've never met in my entire life! I had hoped that my father, of all people, would think better of me."

"I am not your father right now Steve," Gideon said remaining calm in the face of Steve's outburst. Like any good profiler would.

"No you're not," Steve replied after a moment, sounding unbelievably hurt. There was silence in both the integration and observation rooms after that.

"His legal name is Gideon, and he's Jason's son," Hotch finished explaining, his expression completely deadpan. He didn't have to look at any of his fellow agents to be able to tell that they were shocked by the news. "He had used his mother's maiden name in an attempt to prevent the report from reaching Gideon's notice."

No one made a reply to that, partly out of being shocked speechless and partly because Gideon had started talking again.

"You really want to prove that you are innocent," Gideon asked his voice reasonable. Stephan merely stared back at the profiler not bothering to answer. "Give me a reason to think she's still alive." Stephan was silent after that ultimatum.

"What 'she' is Gideon referring to?" Reid asked sounded perplexed.

"Matilda Higgins," Htoch answered, "she went missing exactly three years prior to the latest murder. Gideon thinks that her disappearance is the stressor."

"So these are anniversary killings then," Reid murmured to himself, starting to see the pattern. Hotch made no reply, for Stephan finally answered Gideon's ultimatum.

"All right then," he agreed, then looked past Gideon and at the two-way mirror. "Hotch if you don't mind, could you bring me my briefcase. The old man wants proof." Steve leaned back in his chair then and waited patiently.

Hotch hesitated long enough to received a barely noticeable nod of assent from Gideon, then he left the observation room and went to find Steve's black leather briefcase. It didn't take him to long to find it where Steve had been asked to leave it, out in NYPD bullpen.

He brought the messenger bag into the interrogation room and set it up on the metal table in front of Stephan. He smiled his thanks at Hotch before diving into the bag and pulling things out at random.

"I know it's in here," e mumbled to himself as he pulled book after book after notebook out of the bag. Hotch was impressed by the amount of books Steve had crammed into the bag, he counted at least seven and the young professor was still rummaging around in his briefcase. Each book had a more fascinating title than the last. _Reid would love to get his hands on some of these,_ Hotch found himself thinking.

"Ah here we go Dad, here's your proof." Steve finally said handing Gideon a compact little volume. Gideon stared at the brown book that had been handed to him for a moment before reading the title aloud.

"_The Howling Death_ by Mattie Lock," he looked up at his son and shrugged, "what does this prove" he asked. "There's nothing saying that this Lock person is female, let alone her."

"Read the inscription," Steve prompted. Gideon opened the book and flipped to the inscription page.

"To my old ball and chain S.G. no worries life keeps rolling." Gideon shut the book then and looked as if he was going to say something more but Stephan interrupted him.

"If you remember Dad, and you were around long enough to have known this, I use to tease Matilda for watching old Matlock reruns. So much so that I gave her the nickname Mattie Lock, and she promised to use that as her penname if she ever managed to get published."

"That's a weak proof Steve," Gideon told him.

"Well I'll leave it up to you to improve it, after all you are the big time FBI profiler I'm certain that won't be too hard," Stephan said sarcastically and began packing up his bag. "I'm going home now; I voluntarily came in here and let you interrogate me. You don't have any reason compelling enough to keep me here, and if you try I'll press harassment charges." He stood then leaving his father starting at him, the book in question still in his hands.

"Keep the book, Dad, you might need it. Hotch," Stephan, said then holding out his hand to Htochner. "It's always nice seeing you again." Hotch took the offered hand and shook it, knowing that they could afford to let Stephan go, for now. Before leaving, Steve turned back to his father once more.

"Dad, you know where to find me." With that, Stephan Gideon walked out of the interrogation room without a second glance. As Hotch watched the younger Gideon leave, he could not help but think…_**I will** **not** let Jack's relationship with me turn out like this!_

* * *

She was sitting at her desk trying to work her way through the worst case of writers block she had had in a long time, when the phone rang. Without thinking about it she took if off the receiver and flicked on the speaker phone.

"Hello," she said her eyes still glued to the blank computer screen in front of her.

"Hey Mattie," the voice of her publisher said over the phone, sounding as usual way to cheerful. "Look we have this promotional deal going on, it's a book signing."

"Sounds interesting Stan," she replied vaguely her attention elsewhere.

"Good! I was hoping you'd be interested. We want to set it up at your old college in Manhattan. "That got her attention; she snapped her head around to glare at the phone as if it was a viper.

"It's a good idea Stan," her voice barely hiding her anger and fear, "but there is no way in hell I'm going back to Manhattan." Without further preamble, she slammed the receiver down and tried to go back to staring at the blank screen. But she was shaking to hard to concentrate on her writers block now.


	4. Connections

Author's Note: This is a rewrite of my former Chapter 4. I didn't really like how the original chapter four was written, and it didn't really fit with my original plot. Therefore, I've rewritten it, not only changing things around but also making it longer. Thanks to all who reviewed the first incarnation of this chapter and I hope you like this one just as well!

* * *

Chapter 4: Connections 

Agents Aaron Hotchner and Jason Gideon walked into the BAU's temporary headquarters just in time to hear:

"Does anyone think it's strange that we never knew Gideon had a son?" Prentiss asked, completely oblivious to the fact that Gideon was standing directly behind her.

"I don't think so," Gideon answered. The young woman spun around so fast that it looked like she might fall.

"Our relationship is strained; I didn't see a reason to make a big deal out of it." Gideon continued.

"If that's the case then why did he refer to you as 'dad'?"

"Didn't you catch the sarcasm Prentiss?" Was Gideon's sharp response.

"Morgan get Garcia on the line," Hotch ordered taking a seat at the table that dominated the room.

As Morgan dialed the lab tech's number, everyone else grabbed a chair. He put the phone on speaker than sat down on the table. The team waited patiently as the phone rang.

"_Office of the Being with the Utmost Intelligence, you rang?"_ The blonde's chipper voice answered after a few short rings.

"Garcia," Gideon began, "I need you to check for a connection between our victims and a Matilda Higgins. We know that she went missing in June about three and a half years ago. See if you can dig up any other connection."

"_Uhm… okay give me a moment,"_ she mumbled. The faint sound of furious typing reached the team's ears; clearly, Garcia was checking her 'babies' for the information Gideon required.

"_Here's something Chief. We knew the victims were all future brides but did you know they all hired the same wedding planning service, including the missing Higgins."_

"Do you have a list of employees?" Morgan asked.

"_Sorry sweet cheeks, it's a private company we would need a warrant to get a copy of their employee list. Apparently, you need a referral in order to become a client. Wunderbar! Now if I ever find a man I need a referral before I can drag him to the alter,"_ she said with a sarcastic pout in her voice.

"What's the name of the company?" Morgan asked smiling at the techie's comment.

"_Til death do you Part," _was the reply, _"creepy name for a wedding planning service."_

"Well one of their employee's is a creepy guy," JJ interjected. "Hey Garcia, see if you can discovered who sent the referral."

"_Huh, strange, looks like the company sent the referral_."

"Alright Garcia send Morgan the address of the company, we'll check it out." Gideon told the techie.

"_Done."_

"Now can you get me the address for a Mattie Lock?"

"_Hang on,"_ the techie replied. Gideon stared at the phone as if by shear force of will he could make Garcia work faster. _"Here's the scoop boss man, Mattie Lock is actually a pen name and I haven't yet found the authors real name. However, I do have an address and a number for the publishing company. I'll fax you a copy ASAP."_

"Thanks Garcia, keep digging." Hotch said before hanging up. "Morgan do you have that address?" He continued.

"Yeah, looks like it's a Park Avenue address."

"Alright you and Prentiss take the Detective and go check it out. We will wait here before deciding on anything else." Gideon ordered. Morgan nodded and headed out the door but then stopped when he realized that Prentiss was not following.

"Why me?" She asked Gideon.

"The unsub likes brunettes, Emily. I'm sending you with Morgan because not only does this particular unsub like to inject himself into the investigation but his obsession with brunettes can be used to our advantage."

"Oh," was Emily's reply before hurrying to join Morgan. As she left Gideon grabbed one of the case files and began to pour over it.

"You think sending her with Morgan is a good idea?" Hotch asked.

"She needs more confidence in the field."

"What if the unsub decides to make her his next target?"

"Did you ask them to send an unmarked car to watch Stephan?"

"Yes, they have someone following him and another unit watching his building." An uncomfortable silence fell between the remaining members of the BAU team, especially the team's senior agents.

"Prentiss will be fine, she's not exactly the unsubs type." Gideon finally said, correctly interpreting Hotch's look without glancing up from the case file in front of him. To prove his point Gideon took a picture of a smiling Melissa Karter, obviously taken when she was alive, and put it on the table in front of Hotch. The only similarity between the dead woman and Emily was hair color.

* * *

The black escalade pulled up along side one of Park Avenue's polished buildings and out stepped the two FBI agents and the NYPD's Detective Nora Bennett. They stood on the sidewalk staring up at the building before mounting the stairs to the front door. 

"I had thought that after that vigilante serial case I had seen the last of you guys," Detective Bennett told Morgan, "apparently I was wrong."

"Come on Detective," Morgan said teasingly, "I thought you would be happy to see us again."

"If the circumstances were different maybe I would be."

That seemed to end the conversation, and the three continued on their way into the building. They entered the foyer that had marble floors and in every available corner, there was a potted plant. They made their way to the receptionist desk, which sat in splendor in the center of the foyer.

"May I see your referral please?" The receptionist asked she was an obvious bleach-dyed blonde.

"Yes here it is," Detective Bennett said, showing the receptionist her badge. "I'm Detective Bennett with the NYPD this here is Special Agent Morgan and Special Agent Prentiss from the FBI."

"What can I do for you Detective?"

"You could tell us who is was working on the marriages of Rachel Adams, Cheryl Monroe, Melissa Karter, and Kathryn Olsen."

"Do you happen to know the grooms name as well? Otherwise I can't help you."

"These contracts would have fallen through due to unforeseen circumstances." Morgan told the woman with growing impatience.

"Like death," Prentiss said leaning on the receptionist desk and staring the woman down.

"I'm sorry unless you have a warrant I can't give you that information."

"Michele surely we can help these Agents in their search. Go on and get them the information they need." An authoritative male voice said, shortly followed by a man walking from around the corner. He came up to the receptionist's desk then stopped.

"Rachel Adams and Cheryl Monroe, aren't those the name of those two poor girls that were discovered dead not to long ago?" He asked looking at Prentiss and ignoring both Morgan and the Detective.

"Why yes." Prentiss answered not knowing how to respond.

"Read about in the papers terrible news, and to think they were once clients of ours. Michele I thought I told you to get that information."

"Mr. Wyckoff I thought you said…"

"Michele." He said beginning to sound annoyed.

"Of course Mr. Wyckoff, just a moment please." She left her desk hurriedly and went in search of the files they had requested.

"Nice girl a little slow sometimes." Mr. Wyckoff said by way of explanation.


	5. Discovered

AN: Thanks for being paitent everybody, and here's you're reward a nice long chappie. Oh, I've rewritten chapter 4 and it would be really helpful if you went back and read it. That would make the beginning of this chappie less confusing. Trust me you'll miss a lot if you don't. Thanks again and enjoy!

Oh! And the lyrics mentioned in this chapter are from Tom Petty's song _"Have love will travel"_ i don't own them although it would be cool if i did.

* * *

Chapter 5: Discovered

"_Hey Hotch, looks like we'll be here for a while."_

"Why? What's taking so long?" The supervisor agent asked into the phone. He was staring off into space, acutely aware that he was the center of attention for the other agents in the room.

"_We have four different employees to look at."_

"All right, get a copy of their files and try to get them to answer some questions."

"_Sure, if you want I can leave Prentiss and the Detective here with a few officers and bring the files back."_

"Fine, get back as fast as you can."

* * *

Morgan took Hotch at his word and returned in record time. They now sat in that room pouring over the company's files, trying, and failing to see anymore connections between the victims.

"This is ridiculous man," Derek proclaimed. "We're not getting anywhere! How is this helping?"

"We need to give them a profile." Reid replied, for once not immediately answering a question.

"We need to find Matilda." Gideon told them. "She's the only one of this unsub's victims to survive, she was probably his first. It is obvious that her disappearing is the stressor and she will know who he is, or at least give us someone else to look at."

"How can we even be sure she's still alive? No offense Gideon but we can't really accept Stephen's word, he's involvement is still rather suspicious." Morgan told the older man, his tone making it clear that he doubted she was still alive.

"The pen name is actually a good proof that she's alive," Reid interjected, "the probability of someone else using the same pen name is" –

"Reid please," Hotch interrupted. "We'll give them the profile than you and I," he pointed at the young doctor, "will go pay a visit to Stephen."

"JJ, Morgan, and I will go try and find Matilda. We'll start at the publishers." Gideon decided before heading out to the bullpen.

* * *

Hotch and Reid rode the elevator in silence - dead silence - all the way to the twenty-third floor of the apartment building. It was an uncomfortable silence for Reid and he started fiddling with the strap of his leather messenger's bag to try to ease the anxiety he felt. Anxiety was nothing new to the young agent, he had felt it all his life at one point, or another, it was only worse, a constant sensation now. It had been worse ever since Tobias Hankel had kidnapped him, then it got even worse when Reid realized that Gideon knew he was using. He was trying not use the drugs now, an effort that often resulted in useless gestures such as repeatedly twisting the strap on his bag.

With an annoying and useless ding, the elevator doors opened on the twenty-third floor and the agents stepped out into the hallway. Hotch walked about halfway down the hallway with a confidence in his stride that Reid wished he could feel. He followed meekly and almost ran into the senior agent who had stopped out side of a door with brass numbers _3120 _engraved on it. Hotch knocked on the apartment door and waited patiently for an answer.

They did not have to wait long before the door was whipped open and they were face to face with the younger Gideon. Reid was forcefully reminded of his mentor by the intense way the man stared at them; the only thing that threw him off was the pale green eyes that met his own instead of the brown eyes he expected.

Stephen Gideon stood there in the door way not saying anything for a long time, long enough for Spencer to become aware of music playing from somewhere in the apartment. Faintly he could make out the lyrics:

"_Oh, and if perhaps I loose you in the smoke down the road, I want you to know that you were the one….And may my love travel with you everywhere, yeah, may my love travel with you always…." _

"I should have known that Gideon would have sent someone to check up on me." Stephen finally said breaking the silence. A part of Reid's brain registered the strange way Stephen referred to his father, especially after he had addressed Gideon as 'dad' while at the police station; meanwhile the rest of his brain searched for the artist of the song playing in the background.

"Well I'm glad its you Hotch instead of him," he continued moving so that he was no longer blocking the doorway, "come on in." With a nod, Hotch entered the apartment. Reid hesitated on the threshold. It was bothering him that he had not been able to figure out the artist yet. He did not realize that Stephen was watching him until the man cleared his throat.

"You can come in as well; I swear I'm not as mean as I sound."

"What, oh," Reid exclaimed quickly stepping into the apartment and out of the way of the door. Stephen closed it behind him then fixed the young agent with an obscure look.

"Sorry I was just trying to figure out who was playing."

"Tom Petty," was the answer. "Haven't you ever heard of the classics?" Stephen asked not noticing the warning hand gesture Hotch was making.

"As a matter of fact I have. There is Ludwig von Beethoven, Johann Sebastian Bach, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and George Frederic Handel although both Bach and Handel were composers of the Baroque period rather than the classical period. Of course, there are more classical composers than these four. They just happen to be the most commonly remembered composers. How Tom Petty fits into the classics I'm not sure, unless you want to call him a contemporary classic which is a contradiction in terms…" Reid paused in his headlong rush noticing the look on Stephen's face and the amused twinkle in his eyes. Steve smiled at Spencer before clasping him on the shoulder.

"Nervous much?" He asked a teasing tone to his voice. "Petty's a classic because the ideas voiced in his songs are universal and timeless. Besides that he's been around since the 70's, he's an oldie but a goodie."

"I still fail to see how that makes his music classic"—

"Reid let it go."

"So you're the good Dr. Reid," Steve said extending his hand. Reid took it uncertainly. "My father's told me quite a bit about you; don't worry all of it flattering."

"Ah, thanks I think." Steve smiled again, the same smile that Gideon would give Reid then turned his attention to Hotch.

At a loss Reid stood in the middle of the man's living room looking around trying to find if there was any reason for Steve to be an anniversary serial killer. The room was generously furnished, with a black leather sofa set with a matching recliner as well as a mahogany coffee table and mahogany end tables. The flooring was a glowing hardwood floor with a white area rug in front of the big entertainment center and underneath the couches.

The entertainment center occupied one wall and the other wall, from the front door to the corner was lined with bookshelves. Tall, impressive looking wooden bookshelves the kind one expected to see in an old library, seven shelves deep and each shelf full to the brink. Drawn to them like a moth to a flame, Reid made his way over the bookshelves uncertain if he was hallucinating or not. He began reading the bindings not believing his eyes. Stephen had everything, from classical literature and Ancient philosophers to modern science fiction and graphic novels.

Reid could not believe it, there was the complete set of the works of Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas, Kant, Heidegger, Nietzsche, and others; at least forty philosophers that Reid was familiar with. As well as novels written by Margaret Atwood, Dickens, the Bronte sisters, Hemingway and about fifty more. That was just for classical literature, Reid could not even begin to count how many contemporary and modern authors Stephen had on his shelves. Every literary genera was represented and after recognizing about a hundred or more authors Reid decided that he could joyfully spend months looking over Stephen's collection.

"Impressive isn't it?"

"You could say that again," Reid exclaimed, his voice cracking a little. He did not need the others to tell him that he looked like and sounded like a kid in a candy store. "Have you read all of these?"

"Oh yes," Stephen replied, "most of them I read in college and during graduate school the others I've just sort of picked up along the way."

"What's this?" Reid asked picking up a slim volume of poetry by William Butler Yeats, for some reason it did not seem to fit in with the rest of the collection. Stephen reached over and gently touched the cover.

"It's Matilda's. I got it for her when we first moved in." He answered; there was a distinct note of sorrow in his voice. "Half the books on these shelves are hers; in fact a great deal of the stuff in this apartment is hers. This was our apartment it was going to be our home after the wedding. Since she disappeared, well I just cannot bring myself to get rid of her stuff. There's still a bunch of her clothes in the closet and…" he trailed off turning away from the bookshelf.

Curious Reid flipped open the cover, there right inside the book was a little inscription written from Stephen to Matilda. It was even dated, June 2003, the year she went missing.

"That reminds me Hotch; you wanted more substantial proof that she was still alive." The younger Gideon said heading over the dinning room table and picking up a stack of papers.

"That would be helpful Steve."

"Well here," he said handing Hotch the stack of papers. "Since we we're getting married we opened a joint account at the bank then agreed that we would each set aside our fair share of the rent in that account. Ever since she went missing, each month without fail, her share of the rent would be sent to this account. Those are all the bank statements since August 2003. I'm pretty sure that it's Mattie sending the money, I don't know how anyone else would have the account number."

"Thank you Steve," Hotch said sincerely, "this is very helpful." Hotch reached in his pocket for his cell phone only to have it go off just at that moment. He dug it out quickly then answered it.

"Hello, Gideon." He said into the phone. He was quite for a moment while the person on the other end said something. "You found her... She is in Vermont, are you sure... Yeah, we are with him right now…. No do not worry we can stay with him…. Alright." With that, he hung up.

"Vermont?" Steve asked looking at Hotch with hungry eyes. "All this time she's been in Vermont?"


	6. Mattie

Chapter 6: Mattie

It had been child's play for Gideon to convince the building's proprietor to give him a key to her apartment. A few white lies and the trusting elderly gentleman bought it. Gideon was certain that neither Morgan nor JJ, especially JJ, approved of the way he had lied to the landlord but they both understood the practicality of the action. They needed access into the writer's apartment and Gideon was in no mood to wait around. After the small debacle at the publishers and with the woman's agent Gideon was in no mood to play things by the book. He desperately wanted to know if this woman really was Matilda. If she was then they had a lot of catching up to do.

Morgan and JJ followed the senior agent into the quaint little apartment uncertain of what it was they were looking for, Gideon did not help any by shutting door and locking it then sitting down casually at the small kitchen table.

"Gideon what are we doing here?"

"We're waiting Derek, pull up a chair." Was all the answer Gideon gave him reluctantly the other man sat down without a word JJ followed suit.

They were not waiting long before they heard the distinct sound of a key turning in the lock. Slowly the door opened and someone stepped in. The light from the hallway showed a petite form silhouetted in the doorway, whomever it was stood there for a moment with the agents in plain view before fully entering the apartment and turning on the main light. At that Gideon stood as if it was his cue, he stared at the petite brunette recognizing her immediately. She returned his stare, seemingly unsurprised to find him waiting for her.

She was wearing a blue-gray flannel shirt; unbuttoned with a gray tank top underneath it. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and hanging off her shoulder there was a leather bag. Her jeans looked well used and there were specks of dirt on them as well as the brown boots she wore. She looked like she had just been at a horse barn and Jason remembered how she used to be an avid rider. A faint fragrance of horse reached the profiler's nose confirming his guess.

"How are you?" He asked with fatherly concern. She waited a beat before finally answering.

"Just dandy. How about you old man?" She replied with a saucy smile. Despite himself, Gideon found that he was smiling back. She had always insisted on calling him that, even when she was just a young thing. It had been a blatant act of defiance against her mother's insistence on having manners and showing her elders some respect; one that slowly became habit. Poor Susan Higgins, she had been a single parent trying to raise the hellion that was Matilda.

"I've been better," Jason answered honestly. He paused for a moment, unsure of how to continue. She watched him intently waiting for him to make the next move. Matilda had to be well aware of how strange this sudden meeting was after all these years. Vaguely Gideon was aware of the confused Morgan and JJ sitting awkwardly at the table.

"Do you still speak with him?" He asked, she blinked rapidly as if she had been taken off guard by his sudden question. For a while, her only answer was a blank stare.

"In a roundabout fashion yes," she answered slowly, "I'm sure that half the time he isn't even aware of it."

"He is," Jason said remembering the dedication in the book Steve had shown him, "but if you don't want to contact him directly why do it at all?"

"I can't just kick him out of my life," she answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I have known him forever. Are you speaking with him now?"

Now it was the agents turn to be stunned by an unexpected question. However, in hindsight knowing her he should have expected it.

"Yes, I am"

"When did you start?" Again, she went to the heart of the matter.

"Over a year ago," he answered slightly ashamed that he waited so long to reconnect with his own son. "Why did you leave him?" Once again, his question was greeted with a stony face, and then she actually began to laugh. It was not genuine laughter; there was no mirth in it. Instead, there was a mocking tone to her laughter.

"Why are you and your fellow agents here Gideon?" She asked avoiding his last question by changing the subject.

She slipped her bag off her shoulder and reached out to set it down on the couch, something about her bare wrist caught his attention. Moving quickly he covered the space between them and grabbed her arm. He pulled her arm out into plain sight only to find the shockingly vivid white scar running parallel to the blue vein beneath it. Unwilling to believe what he saw Gideon grabbed her right arm only to find an identical scar, running form her wrist to halfway to her elbow. He looked up from those scars to level an accusatory glare at her. She stared defiantly back at him, the depths of her hazel eyes fuming with the effort to control her temper. He opened his mouth to chastise her but she cut him of with one forceful word.

"Don't."

Matilda then pulled her arms out of his grasp and rolled down her sleeves before whirling away from him and storming over to the small kitchen. She flung open the fridge and grabbed a beer she then slammed the door shut with her foot while roughly twisting off the cap. She flung it into the sink then took a quick swig before facing the FBI agents again. Her whole posture was a challenge.

"Why?" He could not help but ask.

"We all make stupid mistakes Jason, I just happened to survive mine," was the tart answer.

"What drove you to make such a mistake?" Gideon pressed, before making any kind of a reply Matilda took another swig from the bottle.

"Answer my question I'll answer yours," she said gruffly. The two stared at each other neither one willing to back down.

"We are here investigating a serial killer." JJ said earring a glare from both Gideon and Matilda.

"Well I figured that, I know all about the BAU and what it is you guys do. What does it have to do with me?"

"You have to answer my question Matilda," Gideon reminded her.

"I did not ask you Jason, I asked her so I don't have to answer your question." She replied logically.

"Miss Higgins," JJ told her, she was torn between being surprised at the way Matilda addressed Gideon or amused by it. "You are apart of this investigation because we suspect that you were this particular unsub's first victim. Ever since you left Manhattan," Matilda flinched visible at the mention of the city, "this guy has been killing young women who bare a remarkable resemblance to yourself. We were hoping that you would be able to give us an idea of who this guy is and by doing so help us to capture him."

"Don't see how I could be of much help."

"Well you could start by telling us why you left Manhattan." Morgan told her in a brisk tone, he was getting sick of her dodging questions. "Then you could tell us why you attempted suicide, why it is that every time we mention New York City you flinch visibly, and why you are so wary around Gideon and myself."

"Ah, now won't that be telling." She replied snippily taking yet another swig from her beer.

"Matilda, we are here to help you." Gideon told her and for some reason that took the wind out of her sails. She sighed rather theatrically then leaned against the kitchen counter methodically passing the beer bottle back and forth between her hands.

"What is it that you want me to tell you?" She asked and it appeared to be a rhetorical question for she went on talking. "Do you want me to tell you how I was happy in Manhattan living with and planning to wed my childhood sweetheart? Do you want me to tell you how that turned into a nightmare right before my very eyes, hmm? Do you want to know how the worst thing imaginable happened to me how he…" she trailed off then caught the beer bottle and finished it in one go.

"Matilda did Steve hurt you?" JJ asked standing up and laying a hand on Matilda's arm.

"No, never," was the quiet yet vehement reply.

"Then who did?"

"I can't tell you, he told me that if I told anyone he would kill Steve."

"That was years ago Matilda, do you think he really would kill Steve now?"

"I know he would, why do you think I left Manhattan the way I did, and told Steve to drop the missing person's report? Why do you think Steve is still alive? It's because I've kept my mouth shut that's why."

At that particular confession, JJ looked up at Gideon for guidance on how to proceed. The older agent motioned for her to continue, she was clearly getting somewhere with Matilda.

"Alright, you don't have to tell us who, at least not now. But you need to tell us what he did to you."

"What do you think he did to me? He raped me that's what he did. Now does that answer your question agent?" She asked looking directly at Morgan. Her eyes were red rimmed and it was obvious that admitting to being raped was shameful to her. They could all see the tears beginning to form in her eyes despite her best efforts to prevent them.

"How long did this go on?"

"For months, I had to hide it from Stephen and it was killing me. That's why I took off without any warning I didn't want him asking any questions, and I did not want to hurt him. "

JJ looked like she was about to say more but suddenly there was a knocking on the apartment door. Matilda stared at the door for a moment, her face registering her confusion. The knocking continued and then something dawned on Matilda for she pushed herself off the counter and wiped at her eyes, before rushing towards the door. As the knocking grew persistently louder, it was accompanied by a young woman's voice that they could faintly hear through the door.

"Mattie, Mattie it's me Nicole!" By now, Matilda had reached the door and she opened it to find a teenage girl with a diaper bag slung over one shoulder, on the opposite hip she was balancing little girl and holding on to the strap of the diaper bag there was a little boy who looked to be the exact same age as the girl.

"Oh Nicole!" Matilda exclaimed slamming the palm of her hand on her forehead, and causing the children to giggle. "I'm so sorry and it's nearly 8 o'clock too!"

"That's alright Mattie," Nicole reassured her handing over the children and diaper bag, "Cally and Gabe are such little treasures to baby-sit." The teenager turned to leave then but Matilda stopped her.

"Wait Nicole," she said digging into her back pocket and pulling out a couple of wrinkled twenties. "Here take this," Nicole looked ready to protest but Matilda insisted. "No really it's the least I can do, and you can use this as part of your prom money. Consider it my contribution to a good cause."

Nicole blushed with pleasure and took the money thanking Matilda profusely. Matilda waved the thanks off and wished Nicole a good night before closing the door.


	7. Complications

Chapter 7: Complications

Matilda turned around from the closed door, the girl balanced on her hip and the boy at her side. She stared at the FBI agents with a gleam of defiance in her eyes for a moment before setting the girl down and disentangling the boy's hand from the strap of the diaper bag. She then tossed the diaper bag to join her own leather massager bag and scooped the girl back up into her arms. Matilda made as if she was going to walk into the kitchen – completely ignoring the agents – but stopped when the boy reached out and grabbed her wrist. She could have easily kept going but she seemed to sense that something was wrong because she turned a questioning expression on the toddler.

"Momma," the toddler said his confusion evident in his voice, "who's this?" He asked gesturing at the three agents standing in his home.

"These are some of momma's friends Gabe," Matilda answered with the same grave seriousness the boy had used.

"Oh." Apparently, that was answer enough for him because he allowed his mother to lead him into the kitchen.

When they reached the kitchen Matlida set Cally down in an empty chair while Gabe took the last vacant chair and climbed up into it. The two sat there regarding Morgan – who had remained seated since entering the apartment – with frank curiosity.

"Hello I'm Cally." The little girl said quietly waving at Morgan.

"Hello little lady," Morgan responded with a warm smile.

"I'm Gabe," her brother interjected, standing up in the chair. Clearly, he was not shy. "Who are you?"

"Gabriel we sit down in the chair." Matilda admonished him; Gabe sat back down but then gave Morgan a mischievous smile.

"I'm Morgan," the man said answering the boy's question. "These are my friends JJ and Gideon." He continued pointing to each agent in turn.

"Hello." The toddlers said in unison.

"Well," Mattie said recapturing her children's attention, "who's ready for a snack before bedtime?"

"Me!" That was Cally.

"I want a snack, but I'm not tired," Gabe answered.

"I'm sure you're not," Mattie agreed but her tone of voice said just the opposite. "What do you two munchkins want for a snack? A cookie or fruit snacks?"

"Fruit snacks!" Again, they spoke in unison.

"Can I have Batman snacks Mommy," Gabe asked, Matilda nodded before turning around to rummage in one of the cupboards.

"I want Scooby-doo Mommy."

"Alright," Matilda said turning back towards the table, she had already gotten one package of Batman fruit snacks and Scooby-doo ones. "Scooby-doo for Calista and Batman for Gabriel," she announced handing already opened packages to the children.

They took their time eating their bedtime snacks and an awkward silence fell over the four adults. Each agent was thinking the same thing but neither one of them wanted to be the first to voice it, especially in front of the children. When they finished their fruit snacks Matilda was quick to clean up after them.

"Let's go brush our teeth and get in our pajamas, then Mommy will read you both a story."

The kid's did not seem too interested by that but Matilda ushered them out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the bathroom. She was only gone with them for maybe five minutes before the agents heard the sound of little feet running towards them followed by Matilda's annoyed shout.

"Gabriel Thomas!"

Around the corner spurred on by his mother's shout came Gabe, dressed in a lightweight t-shirt that had Spiderman on it with matching shorts. Apparently, Matilda had decided to put their pajamas on first. He was also wearing a great big cheshire grin, like the cat from Alice in Wonderland. He must have thought it was some kind of game and when Matilda finally caught up to him, she did not look too upset. In fact, if one looked closely they could see suppressed laughter in her hazel eyes.

"Gabe," she said in a low voice. "You really do need to go to bed young man."

"No!"

"Gabriel," Mattie persisted the amusement draining from her expression. The toddler noticed the change in his mother immediately and squeaked before ducking behind Morgan.

"Hey little man, you really should listen to your mother." Morgan told him grabbing the boy and lifting him into his lap. Gabe willingly allowed the profiler to pick him up, in fact he seemed right at home sitting on the former football player's lap. What's more, Morgan looked just as comfortable with a child on his knee.

"Why don't I help you get them ready for bed?" Morgan asked. Matilda looked ready to refuse that is until a well timed scream for her mommy from Cally made up Mattie's mind for her.

"I give." Matilda declared dramatically throwing her hands up above her head before heading back towards the bathroom where she had left Cally. Smiling ruefully Morgan rose from the chair and keeping a tight grip on Gabe followed Matilda down the hallway, leaving both JJ and Gideon alone in the kitchen.

"Gideon," JJ began once they were alone, "do you suppose...?"

"I don't suppose anything JJ."

"But Gideon it can't be a fluke that she has children and if I'm guessing right they have to be just about four years old and she's been 'missing' for almost four years. It's too coincidental to not be part of the reason for her to go 'missing' in the first place."

"JJ why don't we let her explain it."

*insert line*

"I had already managed to brush his teeth," Matilda told Morgan when they were halfway to the bathroom. "I was just trying to get Cally ready for bed when Houdini here made a break for it."

"Do you want me to read him a story while you take care of Cally?" Morgan asked.

"Please, that is if you think you can get him to sit still long enough." Was her response, Morgan did not bother to reply. Instead, he took Gabe to the bedroom Matilda had indicated and laid him down in the red racecar bed with batman sheets and comforter.

"This is a sweet bed little man," Morgan told him and Gabe smiled. He seemed very pleased with his batman sheets.

"That's Cally's bed, mine's better." He pointed out the blue racecar bed with Scooby-doo bedding. Morgan stifled a laugh.

"Alright little man, what story do you want to hear tonight?" Morgan asked, turning towards the bookcase that was in-between the two beds. Gabe leaned over the edge of his bed to study the bookcase.

"That one," he exclaimed pointing to Dr. Seuss' _The Cat in the Hat_. Morgan pulled it off the shelf and after making Gabe layback in bed began to read it. He had no idea what Matilda meant about trying to get the boy to sit still. All Morgan had to do was start reading and Gabe was passed out cold within a few pages. He finished the book just out of principal, and then tucked the boy in one last time before leaving. It was as he was leaving that Matilda came into the room with an already asleep Cally. Morgan watched her tuck in the little girl than check on Gabe before leaving. For a moment, he wondered why Matilda had waited until he was done reading to Gabe before entering the room. Then he realized it was because Morgan was male and Matilda probably had not had a man around her since she escaped the control of her rapist.

Morgan could not really blame her for her shyness but it aggravated him all the same as well as made him even more determined to catch the bastard. He followed Matilda back down the hallway to the kitchen making sure that he shut the kid's bedroom door securely. He had the feeling that there was a lot more for Matilda to tell them and he did not want them to over hear what was guaranteed to be a tense conversation.


End file.
